


never let me go

by asakami



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Minor Anna/Kristoff (Disney), Minor Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney), Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24279859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asakami/pseuds/asakami
Summary: “Next life, let’s tell each other right away, okay?”In which Anna and Elsa discover that their love for each other is slowly killing them. Set after the events of Frozen II.
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 101





	1. (anna)

**Author's Note:**

> I urge you to open both chapters in two windows and read them side by side, section by section. Or not. It works if you read them one after another. But I wrote them side by side so I just figured it’ll be more effective that way. but hey, I can’t control your life
> 
> big fat warning though; if you can’t take angst you gotta turn away now (or not. because I can’t control your life)

“You know, you belong up here."

No. No she doesn’t.

_(Please. Please don’t take my sister away from me.)_

“I took an oath to always do what’s best for Arendelle,”

At that moment, in that small hint of a second, when Elsa looks at her like that, Anna thinks it will be the last time.

_(I just got her back.)_

“Luckily, I know just what that is.”

_(I don’t want it.)_

Elsa spreads her arms. Anna runs straight into her embrace.

_(But if it means for Elsa to be happy, to finally be free, to find her place—)_

“I love you, Elsa.”

Her sister smiles so, so lovingly. It makes her heart burn. Akin to the pain that irks underneath her chest every now and then. Much like the feeling of having her heart being frozen over, three years ago.

“I love you too, Anna.”

_(—then, it’s okay.)_

Keep lying to yourself, Queen Anna of Arendelle.

* * *

“Maybe we shouldn’t get married, after all.”

“What?”

He sighs. Looks at anything in the room but her.

“You’re… you always seem so distracted, Anna. And I—it’s not all you. What I’m saying is… I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

_(…)_

“Anna, please. Say something. Yell at me—hit me, at the very least.”

“You’re all the same.”

“What?” he looks horrified. Threatened.

In a flash, she backs him against the nearest wall, grabs onto his collar and yanks him down to crush her lips against his.

“Anna—” he gasps between breaths, “I…! Ahh…!”

She slips a hand into his trousers, grabs onto his member and _squeezes._

“Don’t leave me.”

_(Elsa.)_

He moans, thrusting into her touch and scratches at the wall.

“Not you too.”

_(I’ve already lost her.)_

Kristoff lets out a feral grunt. He lifts Anna by her thighs and throws her onto the desk. Ink spills over the parchments, contracts, and all sorts of important documents, but Anna only pays attention to the sounds of her dress being torn off. The feeling of him penetrating her. The warmth of his breath against her mouth, neck, breasts.

And how empty this all feels.

* * *

Friday night.

Elsa’s coming back from the north for game night.

_(It doesn’t have to be charades.)_

Anna remembers writing with a grin. She knows how bad her sister is at the game, but she still chooses to play because it makes everyone happy. That’s the way she is—selfless, noble, kind.

_(I love you, Elsa.)_

Every week, by evening, Anna would stand at the balcony to wait. To watch Elsa return from the northern fjord, riding on Nokk. Anna loves how majestically her white dress flows with the wind. How the fabric resembles wings. How she looks so much like the fairy queen that they pictured together when they were children.

But that doesn’t happen today. Elsa doesn’t come back on Nokk.

“Anna!” Elsa calls, jumping off the wagon that has entered through the main entrance of the castle.

She welcomes her sister with open arms, but her eyes are on the wagon.

“Honeymaren?”

“Yes, I thought…” Elsa reaches out to the other woman. When their hands touch, Anna goes cold.

It seeps from beneath.

From the very pit of her heart.

“… since Honeymaren’s been dying to come see Arendelle, she can stay over for the night. I can take her out to see the town tomorrow, perhaps show her around.”

I. Elsa said _I._ No _we._

“I’ll be in your care, Your Majesty,” the woman bows.

Anna shakes her head. Forces a smile.

“Oh, no, please, just call me Anna. We literally saved the world together!”

Honeymaren chuckles, and when she does, so does Elsa.

Anna bites the insides of her mouth and tastes blood.

* * *

She cherishes the days when Elsa comes back, because those are the only times when she can snuggle with her sister. To be held by delicate yet secure arms, to fall asleep in the warmest, gentlest hug, and to wake up to the most angelic face.

Every opportunity she gets, Anna holds onto it. Takes in the picture like photography. Keeps in tucked safely in the back of her mind.

But—

“I’ll show Honeymaren to her room first, and then I’ll come to you, okay?”

Anna resists the need to pout. She’s not a child anymore.

“Okay.”

She watches the two walk down the dark, empty hallway, hand in hand.

Anna clenches her fists—both of them. Her nails dig into her palms, but the pain soothes her. It distracts her.

She stands there, alone.

_(Don’t leave me.)_

And starts walking forward. Towards the guest chambers—right to Honeymaren’s room.

Anna isn’t stupid. She should’ve known. She _shouldn’t have come—_

 _“W-wait, I… Honeymaren, I need to… Anna—”_ Elsa.

_“Shh, she can wait.”_

Anna is shaking. Her head spins and she can’t breathe. It—it’s so cold, but she’s sweating. Her skin crawls, but it anchors her. Proves to her that this is all real.

_“No… don’t—aah! Honey, not there. People will see.”_

A chuckle. _“But what if I want them to see?”_

Anna brings her hands up to her ears.

_(No more. I don’t want to hear anymore.)_

_“You’re the worst,”_ Elsa giggles, and then… and then a moan.

The moans become louder.

Turn into screams.

Anna can hear everything despite covering her ears.

_(Elsa sounds so beautiful when she comes.)_

She runs.

_(What…? I shouldn’t think that way. No. Disgusting. Stop it.)_

Back to her room, in her bed, throws the covers over herself, and she doesn’t even realize it when hot tears stream down her cheeks. She clenches onto her chest; it hurts. It burns— _it’s so cold._ Anna hugs herself. Her teeth clatter and that’s all that she can hear throughout the night.

Along with the echoes of her sister’s moans, pounding at her head like pendulums.

Elsa never came to her that night.

* * *

“Anna?”

She looks down at the snowman. Puts up a smile.

“Hmm? What is it, Olaf?”

He reaches out to hold her hand. “Why do you look so sad?”

She bends down, coming at eye-level with him.

“Oh, why would you say that? I’m not sad at all!”

Olaf gives her a sad smile. His little branch hands brush at the edge of her eyes and he just holds her face. “But you’re crying.”

At that, Anna’s eyes grow warm. They start blurring up and she can’t even see the snowman in front of her anymore.

But Olaf understands. He always does. He pulls her in, “Aw, Anna. Warm hugs. Warm hugs will cheer you up.”

It doesn’t. Olaf is cold, and so is her body. Her chest aches and she’s not sure if it’s because of her mood anymore. But she cries into Olaf’s snowy body.

And she doesn’t know if she can hold back anymore.

“Olaf…”

So she tells him.

“I love Elsa.”

“Oh, but I know that!” he says, patting her back gently.

She shakes her head. She wants him to understand. _Needs_ someone to understand.

“But she won’t ever love me the same way.”

“She does love you, Anna.”

He doesn’t get it. Why does she even bother?

She pulls away. Wipes the tears away with her sleeve.

“Promise me you won’t tell Elsa what happened, okay?”

Olaf takes on the nobleness of one of his creators. He doesn’t ask and just nods his head.

“But Anna,” he reaches out to her hair, “Are queenly duties giving you stress? I see white hair on you!”

* * *

Anna starts tying up her hair in a way that conceals that single strand of white hair. It’s the same strand. The one she got when she was five.

_(Nobody may know.)_

Not Kristoff.

Not Olaf (who still thinks it’s stress).

 _Especially_ not Elsa.

Spring approaches, the cold air leaves Arendelle, but Anna grows colder than ever.

When she looks at herself in the mirror, she sees the once healthily-tanned skin gone. She is pale—not in the beautiful way that her sister is, but it’s gaunt. She looks like she’s dying.

“Need help?”

Her sister comes in one weekday. A Wednesday.

“Elsa!” Anna calls, unable to hide the wide smile that has spread across her cheeks. She nearly leaps over the desk out of excitement but remembers that going around it is perhaps more appropriate for a queen. She throws her arms around her sister, buries herself in Elsa’s shoulder. Inhales deeply and savours the sweet and distinct scent that she gives off.

_(Faint, red bite marks on her neck.)_

Anna wraps her arms around Elsa’s tiny waist.

_(I can do the same. I can give you more. If only it were possible.)_

“What are you doing here?” she finally asks.

Elsa draws back and cups Anna’s cheek, brushing loose strands of red hair behind an ear. “I felt something in Ahtohallan,” she pauses, looking straight into Anna’s teal eyes. “I followed the feeling and it brought me back here.”

Anna tilts her head. “Here?” she looks around. “There’s nothing here. Just good old me. Queen Anna of Arendelle, at your service!” she bows like a knight.

Her sister giggles.

_(Like that night when you were with Honeymaren—)_

“Anna,”

She looks up but remains in that bowing posture.

Elsa takes a step closer. Holds onto her face with a tender strength. Anna inadvertently leans into her sister’s touch.

“You look so tired,” she says.

Anna smiles. “Not with you here, I’m not.”

Elsa leans in. Their foreheads touch.

It’s a natural reaction. Anna closes her eyes. She loves moments like these, whenever her sister is so close. It makes her feel so safe. Loved.

“I love you, Anna.”

Anna breathes out a sound of amusement. She doesn’t need to say it back. Elsa already knows.

* * *

Summer arrives on her birthday, yet Anna can’t find the strength to get up.

Oh, no, not today, of all days.

Kristoff has left the bed. Maybe he’s preparing for the party?

She smiles.

She’ll always remember when they worked together to pull off that surprise party, years ago. The year when Elsa did everything in her power to make it up for all the birthdays she’s missed.

How Anna longs for those simpler times.

_(Get up. Please, get up.)_

Anna tries, but she ends up falling from the bed, landing on the hardwood with a _thud._

“Ow,” she mutters to no one in particular.

So weird. Her legs have lost all feeling. She can’t stand.

_(It’s so cold.)_

A little while, and then, “… Anna!” It’s Kristoff. He sweeps her up and lays her down on the bed. “Are you okay? God, your skin—it’s so cold. What happened?”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine, Kristoff. I’m just a bit tired.”

He pauses. “Anna…” places his warm palm along her cheek, “… your hair…”

Anna gasps. She shirks and uses all her strength to push him away. “Get out.”

“But, Anna—”

“I said GET OUT!”

It hurts to scream. It hurts to talk. It hurts so much to move. Anna realizes it now. The adrenaline is leaving her and she wants to just—to…

_(Elsa.)_

She loses consciousness.

* * *

_(Please don’t take her away from me.)_

“Anna.”

_(I want her back.)_

“I’m here, Anna.”

_(I’ll give you anything—please, just don’t take her away.)_

“I’m not going anywhere.”

A sharp gasp. Anna wakes and she sees white. Platinum blonde. Blue.

_(Elsa.)_

Oh? She can’t… she can’t even speak anymore.

“Anna,” Elsa calls her name tenderly.

She smiles. Anna thinks tears are streaming down her face—out of happiness, of course. Elsa’s holding onto her hand and this all feels like a dream.

_(I love you, Elsa.)_

“I know,” Elsa says. She brings Anna’s hand up to kiss her on the knuckle. “I love you, too.”

Anna blinks. Odd. She’s not saying anything out loud.

_(You can hear me?)_

Elsa nods. “Only recently,” she clutches onto her hand even tighter. “I think… my powers as the Fifth Spirit are growing. And we are one bridge, after all.”

She can… Elsa can hear her thoughts. Anna’s heart pounds. She breathes in sharply. Hyperventilates. Elsa can hear her. Everything that she thinks of. All those selfish thoughts; those twisted, _disgusting desires._

_(You have every right to hate me.)_

“What…?” Elsa’s voice cracks. “No, Anna, I can never hate you. You’re my sister!”

_(Sister.)_

“Anna…”

She already knows everything. In the recent months, as much as Anna wants to hide it, her mind has been screaming desperately for her sister. All those nights when Kristoff fucks her, it’s _Elsa._ When she touches herself in the bath, it’s _Elsa._ Unsightly. Disgusting _._ Anna’s an abomination—she’s _sick._

_(What would mother and father think of me?)_

Elsa’s eyes widen.

Anna smiles sadly. When she pulls her hand away, Elsa isn’t holding on tightly anymore.

_(I can’t taint you with what I have. Look at me. I’m dying because of it.)_

“No…” her sister says quietly. “But I love you. We’ve been separated for so long. I just got you back—I don’t ever want to be apart.”

Elsa suddenly gasps, as if she's realized something. As if something has hit her.

“It’s my fault,” she says, “I did this. I’m killing you, _again.”_

_(No, Elsa, what are you saying? I’m the one—)_

“I love you,” Elsa cuts in. She presses her lips onto Anna’s hand. “I love you, Anna. I love you. It’s because I love you. It’s because of what I feel towards you. That’s why you’re dying. My twisted desires—it’s killing you. It’s my fault.”

What? Anna doesn’t understand. Elsa… how she feels?

_(Elsa—)_

But she can’t continue. Elsa has stood up and is kissing her on the forehead. “I love you,” she says, moving lower so that their eyes can meet. Elsa brushes her fingers across her bangs tenderly, and in one motion, she leans down so that their lips would touch—just briefly. And then she whispers, “Goodbye, Anna.”

Anna wants to sit up, but she can’t.

It’s already too late; Elsa’s gone. She just… disappeared.

* * *

But it’s not her fault. Anna wanted to tell Elsa that it’s not her fault. None of it is. She should’ve known, though; that’s just the way that Elsa is—always shouldering responsibilities even when they are not for her to take. This whole issue involves Anna as well, why can’t Elsa understand that?

How dare she just leave her here in Arendelle? How dare she thinks that by distancing herself, it would solve everything? She’s such a stinker.

Anna is dying—that much she knows. She fears looking in the mirror because she knows all she will see is a figure with white hair and crystal-like skin.

But she will use the last of her strength to do this.

She writes Kristoff a note, tells him she is sorry—because she truly is. Tells him that she really did love him, but he deserves someone who can reciprocate the same amount of love he gives.

Anna can’t do it for him, but she can do it for _her._

She roams around the castle to see her caretakers one last time. They look at her with concern, urging for her to stay in bed. She promises that she will, and for the first time since she was a child, she runs over to hug them. Both Kai and Gerda are taken aback, but the smiles on their faces are so warm, _so warm._

Anna takes off her tiara, places it next an official statement regarding her abdication. Arendelle will be in the hands of her council. It’s been a long time coming. In her brief reign as queen, she has solidified many bonds, strengthened the relations with neighbouring countries, and therefore has every bit of knowledge to pass the responsibility onto the appropriate people.

Her final stop is Olaf.

She needs to see him before she leaves. When this is all over, he will still have Kristoff, Sven, and Elsa, but he’s always been the closest with her. She is, after all, his other creator. Anna searches for him in the library, where he usually would be.

But when she arrives, she only sees a pile of delicate, powdered snow.

In that moment, Anna thinks she has lost a part of herself. Much like that time in the cave. She drops to her knees. She doesn’t know what she wants to do. She reaches for the snow with shaky hands but ends up clutching onto her heart as she feels the cold pulse through her veins. Olaf has died, but she is still here. This—this only means one thing.

_“Conceal, don’t feel.”_

Elsa’s voice.

She can hear her sister.

But… why does she say that anymore? Why is she saying it _again?_

Something is wrong. Elsa didn’t tell her everything. But she is alive. She’s _still_ alive.

Anna runs to the balcony. She needs to get to Elsa _now._

“Gale!”

* * *

Anna’s never been here. She’s heard of how incredible it is from her sister, but no matter how poetic Elsa’s descriptions may be, the sight is still incomparable. She makes her way into the glacier, past the humungous ice pillars, all crafted with such finesse that she knows only her sister is capable of such a feat.

A bridge forms when she reaches a chasm. It’s like Ahtohallan is responding to her request.

She proceeds; the deeper she goes, the colder it becomes. But at this point, it’s no longer a concern.

Anna presses a palm against her beating heart.

She sees a figure lying on the icy floors.

_(Elsa.)_

Her sister looks like she’s sleeping. Her usual, platinum blonde hair is white like her dress; her skin has a blueish hue to it, and intricate snowflake patterns scatter all over her body.

Anna lies down next to her. Reaches up to touch her sister’s cheek.

To that, Elsa’s eyes start blinking, thick eyelashes flutter.

Anna grins, but she is so, _so_ tired.

“Good morning,” she says.

Elsa’s eyes slowly widen in horror. She, too, reaches to touch Anna, placing her hand— _ice blue—_ onto her cheek. “Is this a dream…?”

Anna shakes her head. “It could be.”

A moment passes. Anna sees tears rolling down the corner of Elsa’s eyes. She does the only thing she can—she leans in to kiss them away.

“No,” Elsa shoves at her, but much like Anna, she doesn’t have the strength. She ends up placing her hands on Anna’s shoulders, just gripping at the fabric there. “I’m going to hurt you. Anna, stay away…”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Anna says. “Olaf is gone.”

Elsa looks at her as though she doesn’t want to believe her, but at the same time, she knows that it is the truth. She needs to accept it. There’s no more running away. There’s nowhere else to run.

And Anna is content with it. As long as her sister is here by her side, in their final moments, there’s nothing more that she can wish for. Anna holds onto Elsa’s hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Anna confesses.

Elsa leans in closer. Their foreheads touch. “And I should’ve told you as well.”

“Next time,” Anna breathes out. She tries again, “Next life, let’s tell each other right away, okay?”

More tears. She can’t see. Elsa wants to see, Anna can tell.

“I’ll find you. I promise, I’ll find you, and I won’t ever let you go.”

“Mmn,” Anna nods. She closes her eyes.

She feels soft lips against her own.

_(I love you, Elsa.)_


	2. (elsa)

“You know, you belong up here.”

She doesn’t know that for certain.

_(Do I? Being separated from Anna… is that truly how it should be?)_

“I took an oath to always do what’s best for Arendelle,”

She looks to her sister, smiling so charmingly at her. It warms her heart. It makes her stomach flutter.

_(Yes. Yes, it is. Because I’m just holding you back, Anna.)_

“Luckily, I know just what that is.”

_(You are much better.)_

Elsa loves how her sister just runs into her arms when she spreads them.

_(You can do so much better without me.)_

“I love you, Elsa.”

She tries her best to return that wonderful smile. But she wants to cry. _Ah—_ her heart aches. She never knew how the cold felt like until she died in Ahtohallan. Was that how her sister felt? Three years ago on the fjord—Elsa had asked, but Anna always told her that it didn’t hurt.

“I love you too, Anna.”

_(But it hurts so much.)_

Anna lied to protect her, and so Elsa will do the same.

* * *

She is unfamiliar with her surroundings. Don’t get her wrong; the people of Northuldra are unconditionally kind to her. Considering what her forefather has done, they truly do not have to provide her with such hospitality.

But she is lost.

She feels safe only when she hides in the glacier, surrounded by projections of her memories.

The memories of Arendelle.

Of her parents.

Of Anna.

_(Anna…)_

She calls her sister’s name when she touches herself.

Thinks of her sweet, adorable little sister’s face when _someone else_ touches her.

_(Anna… oh, god—)_

“Don’t leave me,” she moans.

_(Anna.)_

Her body writhes into those fingers.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

_(I’ve already lost her.)_

She cries in silence. Tears stream down her flushed cheeks as the woman between her thighs continues to pleasure her. Thrust into her heat with her tongue. Suck on her clit until she trembles. Bites at the skin around her thighs. Kisses the pain away. Elsa never opens her eyes when this happens. Because if she keeps them closed, she can imagine that it’s _Anna._

And if she keeps them closed, she wouldn’t see someone else. She wouldn’t feel so empty.

* * *

Friday night.

She looks forward to it every week.

“It doesn’t have to be charades,” her sister writes.

Elsa chuckles to herself. Yes, she is absolutely horrible at the game, but she still wants to play because no matter how bad she is, Anna would always cheer her on. That’s the way her sister is—supportive, understanding, kind.

_(I love you, Anna.)_

This week, Honeymaren asks to come along. Elsa doesn’t have it in her to say no, because… because they are a _thing_ now, right? A-and everything this woman’s done for her—she’s been keeping her company, making her feel at home, helping her adjust to her life in the north.

Elsa can’t say no. She’s done so much.

She arrives by wagon, not on Nokk, through the castle’s main entrance and immediately calls to her sister when she sees her, “Anna!”

Elsa runs into her arms. Holds her tightly because she means the world to her.

“Honeymaren?” Anna says softly.

Elsa swallows. “Yes, I thought…” she reaches out to the other woman, “… since Honeymaren’s been dying to come see Arendelle, she can stay over for the night. I can take her out to see the town tomorrow, perhaps show her around.”

Anna looks at her for long time. Like she’s trying to say something.

_(What do you want to say, Anna? Please, tell me.)_

“I’ll be in your care, Your Majesty,” Honeymaren bows.

Anna shakes her head and smiles. A beautiful, gentle, warm smile that Elsa adores so much.

“Oh no, please, just call me Anna. We literally saved the world together!”

Honeymaren chuckles, and Elsa forces herself to laugh along.

Her chest tightens.

* * *

Coming back to Arendelle makes her feel grounded—it makes her feel human, because it is the only time when she has the right to be who she used to be. Snuggle with her sister. Hold Anna in her arms, fall asleep next to her, and to wake up to the most adorable face.

Every opportunity that derives, Elsa would take it. Cherish it and let it replay when she returns to Ahtohallan.

But it’s unhealthy. _Unnatural._

Not just for herself, but for Anna as well. She can’t infest her dear, innocent little sister with her sickness.

So—

“I’ll show Honeymaren to her room first, and then I’ll come to you, okay?”

She needs to protect Anna from this… _this._ From her filth. From this desire.

“Okay.”

Elsa leads Honeymaren away, dragging her by the hand. She can’t walk any faster. She needs to get out of here. Out of Anna’s sight.

She doesn’t have eyes at the back of her head.

But she knows Anna is still standing there, alone.

_(Stay away from me.)_

Honeymaren closes the doors behind her. She walks forward, pushes Elsa onto the bed, and pins her down.

Elsa doesn’t move. She _doesn’t know what to do—_

“W-wait, I… Honeymaren, I need to… Anna—” what is she even trying to say? Anna _what?_

“Shh, she can wait.”

The woman dives down to bite at her exposed neck, shoulder, chest.

“No… don’t--- _aah!_ Honey, not there. People will see.”

She laughs. “But what if I want them to see?”

It… it’s okay, right? It doesn’t matter. She’s not doing anything wrong.

_(But why do I feel so guilty?)_

“You’re the worst,” Elsa feigns amusement, giggling to lie to herself. Honeymaren smirks and moves lower. Pushes the silky fabric of her dress down and exposes a pink, perky nipple. _Bites._ Elsa moans.

Moans louder when fingers enter her.

Screams when she pictures Anna between her legs.

It’s the only way for her to come.

_(Only Anna can make me sound like this.)_

Tears stream down her cheeks.

_(The guilt burns through her gut. It makes her feel nauseous. Disgusting. Stop it.)_

But when Honeymaren continues, Elsa doesn’t resist. She will keep on closing her eyes, keep on imagining Anna. When the woman falls asleep beside her, Elsa turns to her side. She digs her blunt fingernails into her chest, claws at it. Intensifies the pain. Yes, that’s it— the pain will numb the cold. _It’s so cold._ Elsa wraps her arms around herself.

Her ears ring and her head throbs.

She can’t let Anna see her like this.

* * *

“Elsa?”

She looks at the snowman and smiles.

“Olaf? Did you come to see me off?”

He reaches out to hold her hand. His little twig eyebrows are creased, and he’s looking at her so longingly.

“Oh, Olaf,” Elsa bends down to meet him at eye-level, “Why do you look so sad?”

Olaf smiles, but it’s forced. Elsa knows, because she is his creator.

“Olaf, if something is wrong, you have to tell me, okay?”

But the little snowman shakes his head. “I can’t.”

Elsa tilts her head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I just…” Olaf clenches his eyes shut. He looks like he’s in agony.

And this deeply concerns Elsa. Olaf is conjured out of all the happiness she can muster. The feeling of sadness, of melancholy, of pain shouldn’t even be possible for him. “Olaf…?”

“How much do you love us? How much do you love Anna?”

She blinks. That came out of nowhere.

“Why do you ask that?”

His grip on her fingers tighten a little. And she, instinctively, holds him back.

“I promised not to say anything,” he says. “But, Elsa, if you don’t do something soon, I feel like I’m going to flurry away again.”

“What?” Elsa rests on her knees. She holds Olaf close and inspects him. His head, his body, his little snowball feet. The permafrost spell is functioning; there’s nothing wrong. Olaf is okay. “What are you saying? As long as I’m okay, you’re—”

Slowly, Elsa’s eyes widen.

“Elsa,” Olaf reaches out to touch her face, “I promised not to say anything,”

_(No. Please, no.)_

“But you are only one half of me.”

* * *

Elsa consults to the memories of Ahtohallan. It’s all she has—it’s all that she can understand. She watches everything. From her birth to Anna’s birth; the fun times they have shared as children. It always puts a smile on her face. Elsa clutches her hands together at her chest.

But as the timeline progresses to the present, the memories start warping, twisting in a maelstrom that is beyond her control. Elsa tries everything in her power to calm the projection, but to no avail.

It’s cold.

It feels like when she froze over that one time.

_(Anna, is this how you felt?)_

Elsa drops to her knees and can barely support herself with her arms.

_(Anna…)_

_“Nobody may know.”_

Elsa gasps. She lifts her head and focuses.

_“Especially not Elsa.”_

Anna’s voice.

In an instant, Nokk is summoned. She rides the waters in an inhuman speed, assisted by Gale’s winds, and she is at the castle gates in no time. She dismisses the guards, greets Kai and Gerda as frankly as possible and heads into the queen’s office. To her relief, Anna is sitting in the throne, looking intently at some document with pursed lips.

The heavy weight lifts off her chest and she enters the room. “Need help?”

When Anna looks up, her smile is radiant. It lights up the entire room—it brightens up all of Arendelle, the skies, the oceans _._ Elsa laughs as Anna stops herself from leaping across the table and chooses to walk around it instead. She welcomes her sister into her arms, holding her close and she breathes in everything that is _Anna._

_“Faint, red bite marks on her neck.”_

Elsa’s breath hitches. Just now, that was Anna’s voice again.

_“I can do the same. I can give you more. if only it were possible.”_

She can hear her. Elsa can hear Anna’s voice in her head.

But she can’t react—Anna’s speaking, “What are you doing here?”

Elsa doesn’t know how to tell her. Doesn’t even know _what_ is wrong. Doesn’t know the gravity of the situation and how it will come to affect them. So she just draws back and cups Anna’s cheek, brushing loose strands of red hair behind an ear. “I felt something in Ahtohallan,” she explains as she stares deep into Anna’s magnificent eyes. “I followed the feeling and it brought me back here.”

Her little sister gives her a cute head tilt. “Here?” Anna says curiously. “There’s nothing here. Just good old me. Queen Anna of Arendelle, at your service!”

Anna’s knightly bow makes Elsa giggle. Genuinely, it makes her feel happy.

_“You giggled like that night when you were with Honeymaren—”_

_(No.)_

“Anna,” Elsa says quickly. To interrupt her own thoughts.

_(Say something. I need to distract myself—)_

She takes a step closer and reaches to hold Anna’s face gently. Elsa’s heart melts when the redhead leans into her touch.

“You look so tired.”

But Anna smiles. “Not with you here, I’m not.”

_(I’m hurting you again.)_

Elsa leans in so that their foreheads would touch. Her heart is now throbbing, not in a good way. It alternates between a burning and a freezing sensation. Like something is squeezing at it, stopping the blood from pumping through her veins.

“I love you, Anna,” she manages to whisper despite the pain.

Anna breathes out, and that’s all she needs to hear as reassurance.

* * *

It’s Anna’s birthday. Elsa has been planning a surprise for the past two weeks. She knows how busy her sister is, but as former queen herself, Elsa has every right to steal her away for a day.

She has been staying at the inn near the castle to prepare for this day.

Elsa wonders if Anna is out of the bed yet. Maybe her hair is still a mess?

She smiles.

She’ll do it right this year, unlike that time when she came down with a fever. It ruined everything. Anna tells her that it’s still the best birthday ever, and Elsa loves being spoiled by her sister—loves getting fed, loves the cuddles, loves everything they had done that day—but this year, she wants to do better.

And… by the end of the day, maybe Elsa can tell her.

_“Get up. Please, get up.”_

A sudden pang in her head, in her chest. Her head pounds and that feeling of something grabbing onto her heart returns. Elsa loses balance and falls, knocking over the present she’s prepared for Anna on the table.

“Anna…” Elsa calls weakly. The present left on the floor sparkles. Teal crystals wrapped around the platinum bracelet draws Elsa’s attention towards it.

How odd. Elsa is suffocating. Everything is distorted and she feels as though she’s floating. Like her soul has left her body—she doesn’t know how else to explain it.

_“It’s so cold.”_

“No…” Elsa mumbles to herself. She pushes herself up, bursts out of the door and runs straight towards the castle.

_“Elsa.”_

The pain in her chest intensifies.

* * *

_“Please don’t take her away from me.”_

Her voice returns. It echoes in her head. Elsa combs through Anna’s red hair. When she finds the familiar white strand, her heart drops. She reaches for her little sister’s hand; she needs to wake her. “Anna.”

_“I want her back.”_

Her vision blurs. Elsa doesn’t bother holding back her tears. “I’m here, Anna.”

_“I’ll give you anything—please, just don’t take her away.”_

She bites hard onto her bottom lip. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And then Anna gasps. Her eyes snap open and Elsa immediately stands, hovering above her.

_“Elsa.”_

She smiles, “Anna,” saying her name softly.

And her sister returns the smile with one of her own. But she, too, is crying. Tears roll down her pale cheeks and Elsa holds her hand securely, with all that she can offer. All that she can give.

_“I love you, Elsa.”_

“I know,” Elsa chokes. She brings Anna’s hand up to kiss her on the knuckle. “I love you, too.”

Anna blinks; nothing but confusion is written all over her face.

_“You can hear me?”_

Elsa nods in response. “Only recently,” she holds onto Anna’s hand more tightly. “I think… my powers as the Fifth Spirit are growing. And we are one bridge, after all.”

The aforementioned confusion twists into fear. Anna is so easy to read. Her little sister starts hyperventilating and Elsa can practically hear the redhead’s heart pounding.

_“You have every right to hate me.”_

“What…?” Why would she say this? Why—“No, Anna, I can never hate you. You’re my sister!”

_“Sister.”_

Elsa shakes her head. “Anna…”

But she doesn’t hate her. She can never. Elsa loves her with all that she is. When she first laid eyes on her as a three-year-old, when she sees her in the hallways as children, on the day of her coronation when Anna has grown into a beautiful young lady, just—the love she has for Anna grows, day by day, to the point that she cannot contain it. It was powerful enough to thaw all of Arendelle, powerful enough to revive her at the depths of Ahtohallan, powerful enough for Elsa to come here to _tell Anna_ —

_“What would mother and father think of me?”_

—she freezes.

Anna pulls away, and she’s lost all will to hold on.

_“I can’t taint you with what I have. Look at me. I’m dying because of it.”_

“No…” Elsa says softly, more so to lie to herself than anything. Because she knows that being close to Anna is killing her. It’s the feelings she has towards her little sister—the sick and immoral desires she feels towards her _sister._ This is all her fault. It always is. “But I love you,” Elsa sobs. “We’ve been separated for so long. I just got you back—I don’t ever want to be apart.”

_(Then why did you stay in the north?)_

Another gasp.

It is her fault after all. Elsa takes Anna’s hand into both of her own, hides her head in it. “It’s my fault. I did this. I’m killing you, _again._ ”

_“No, Elsa, what are you saying? I’m the one—”_

“I love you,” Elsa interrupts. She kisses Anna’s hand desperately. “I love you, Anna. I love you. It’s because I love you. It’s because of what I feel towards you. That’s why you’re dying. My twisted desires—it’s killing you. It’s my fault.” She says everything in one short, urgent rush as if she’s running out of time.

_“Elsa—”_

She can’t hold back anymore. Elsa stands and presses a kiss on her sister’s forehead. “I love you,” she whispers. Moves lower so that they are looking straight into each other’s eyes. Elsa brushes Anna’s copper bangs away and leans down one final time, giving her sister a chaste kiss on the lips. “Goodbye, Anna.”

Elsa doesn’t wait for Anna to respond.

She lets the wind take her away.

* * *

But it doesn’t work. The days go by and Elsa’s chest hurts more than ever. She is left in the glacier, clutching onto her heart as the agonizing pain grows more prominent. Like someone is stabbing a knife deep into her gut—again and again and _again and again._

Most of the days, she is crying on the floor. Just when she thinks the pain has subsided, it strikes her again, and she is down on her knees. Elsa curls herself into a ball. She doesn’t know how else to deal with the cold.

She wants to know if her staying here would protect Anna. She wants to know if her little sister has recovered in her absence, but she can’t. The smallest connection with Anna is capable of harming her—she can’t risk it. No. _No._ She has to fight it.

Elsa bites onto her wrist.

_(Conceal, don’t feel.)_

A familiar mantra.

She lived by that for thirteen years. Who’s to say that it won’t work now?

She opens her eyes and finds it odd that despite biting down so hard into her flesh, she isn’t bleeding.

* * *

It’s so cold.

Elsa can barely keep her eyes open.

What is this sound?

Ice is forming somewhere in the glacier, but it’s not her doing.

Something approaches, but Elsa can’t move. All the strength has left her, and she is just lying lifelessly on the icy floors. Perhaps it’s better this way. She deserves to be this way.

_“Elsa.”_

_Ah…_ to hear her sister at a time like this. It’s the least that she can get. For all the wrongdoings and sins that she has committed, Death sure as hell is giving her quite a gift before she departs.

But then she feels something. Ice. On her face.

Elsa opens her eyes, blinking several times to adjust her vision.

No. I-it can’t be. Anna, _no—_

“Good morning,” Anna forces out a cheery tone, but Elsa can hear it; she sounds so rough, so forced.

She can’t be here. Her dear little sister—she should be back in Arendelle. This is just an illusion. It’s not real. She needs to confirm, and so she reaches out to touch her, “Is this a dream…?”

“It could be.”

 _Oh, no._ It’s not. This is real. Anna’s here when all this time, Elsa’s been trying to protect her. It is all for naught. She’s so useless. Elsa hates how useless she is. Nothing she ever does is right. Again and again, she keeps screwing up. The more she thinks about it, the more frustrated she becomes. Tears well up in her eyes and… and then she feels Anna’s lips on her. Her sister is kissing away her tears.

“No,” Elsa struggles to push her away, but she can’t feel her arms. Her muscles have died, as have much of her body. She rests her hands on Anna’s shoulders, nails scratching at the soft fabric there. “I’m going to hurt you. Anna, stay away…”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Anna says softly. “Olaf is gone.”

What? Olaf—but… Elsa stares at her sister in disbelief. Anna’s… she wouldn’t lie. This is the truth. Olaf is gone because her powers are fading. Olaf has died because Anna is dying. They are his creators; if anything happens to one of them, he will cease to exist. With the two of them barely clinging onto life, it is only natural for Olaf to be the first to fade away.

Their creation is gone. All that’s left that binds them together is their joined hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Anna says softly.

Elsa leans in so that their foreheads would touch. “And I should’ve told you as well.”

“Next time,” Anna chokes; her breath hitches as she speaks, so she tries again, “Next life, let’s tell each other right away, okay?”

Her vision blurs again. This time it’s both from her tears and the ice. It’s crawling up to her eyes. She can’t see. She _wants_ to see. But if she can’t see, then _please, give her the chance to tell her—_

“I’ll find you. I promise, I’ll find you, and I won’t ever let you go.”

A smile breaks. “Mmn,” Anna hums. That’s all that comes from her before her eyes shut.

Elsa bites back a sob and kisses her.

_(I love you, Anna.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because YOU KNOW WHAT, FROZEN II? If they can’t BE together, then they sure as hell can DIE together.
> 
> (alright i'm done. time to go back to writing fluff)


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